“Probably.”
“We’ll psychoanalyze you later,” Simon says. “At length. Do you smell anything yet?”
Forest rises around them, and Cody inhales. He’s spent his life in cities since getting kicked out, but he still knows how to move quietly through nature. Simon makes even less noise, and his scent has become more familiar than Cody’s own. Suspicious elements should stand out.
“Just normal nature. Lot of deer out here.” Cody inhales again. He needs to focus. They’re on a deadline. “Did Dima say when he’s showing up?”
“He never answered,” Simon says, clearly annoyed. “Which means we can take as long as we need. He can wait on the porch.”
Cody hesitates. He doesn’t want to be a wedge between Simon and his sire. There’s too much history Cody doesn’t know yet. Even if the growly, primal side of him loves the thought of keeping Simon to himself. Shoving everyone else away—especially Dima.
“I don’t blame him for worrying about you,” Cody says instead. See, he can be normal amounts of possessive. “Mysterious animal attacks on the full moon are suspicious as hell.”
“Quite,” Simon replies. “About ten yards north we’ll hit an old trail. We can follow that northeast.”
Their goal isn’t to invade the actual crime scene. The area should still be roped off, and interfering would get them in trouble with all sorts of law enforcement. They just want to sneak around the edges, discovering what they can with inhuman senses.
Cody spent his waking hours flipping through local news sites. Social media channels. Fielding supportive but unhelpful messages from Tobias. The media still hasn’t identified the victim.Law enforcement still hasn’t confirmed her cause of death, either, beyond ‘probably an animal attack.’
That might be the only story ever told. Without witnesses, most paranormal attacks don’t even need a cover-up. The next story hits the news cycle, and the old story goes to an overworked cold case team. People fill in the blanks with whatever makes sense.
Just like Cody did, when he heard someone died the night he shifted. Hell, it’s possible this really was a bear attack.
Half a mile down the trail, Simon asks, “Do you smell any traces of yourself?”
“No,” Cody says, then takes another long sniff. Just in case.
“You don’t sound happy about that.”
“Someone’s still dead,” Cody says. “If I didn’t kill her, someone or something else did.”
Another few steps of silence, beneath rustling trees and chorusing insects. “Would you smell everything better as a wolf?” Simon asks.
Cody would rather be able to communicate clearly in this situation, and he doesn’t trust his wolf to remember everything. All of that would be different if he and Simon were mates. “Not enough to matter. My nose is still good when I’m—”
The wind changes. Cody stops, and Simon goes rigid behind him.
“Blood,” Simon says, with barely a breath.
Cody’s assessment is just as quick. The scent is faint, not fresh. Underscored by traces of the human who bled. Something familiar tugs Cody’s mind, but he can’t find the right memory.
“This way.” Cody touches Simon’s shoulder, reassured by the cold strength. “Stay close.”
The scent leads them off the trail, first through brush, then onto a narrow deer track. Cody’s gun slips into his hand, itsweight a reminder that humans are good at leveling the playing field. He won’t underestimate human adversaries.
“The blood is getting fainter,” Simon says, close at his elbow. Naturally, he’s more sensitive to blood than anything else.
Cody continues on the same trail. “The person’s overall scent is stronger this way. There’s something familiar about it, but I can’t quite… Here.”
There’s nobody nearby, dead or alive, but the scent intensifies around a fork in the path. A leafy thicket borders the junction. Cody casts around, ensuring they’re alone. Then he crouches to inspect the bushes.
“What is it?” Simon asks quietly.
Cody drags the backpack out to the narrow trail. The scent is even stronger now, strong enough to spark a clearer memory. But he doesn’t want to give voice to it yet. He can’t believe she would do this.
Even though the bright floral patches don’t give him hope.
Wordlessly, Simon lifts his hand. Flame spirals around his fingers, illuminating the area.
